Some Kind of Update

September vanished. A few beers, and some long naps and like that it's gone. It seems that no matter where I am in the world October makes its entrance with a crisp chill. Today the temperature plunged about 20 degrees with hard rain. Supposed to be a warm spring now in Brazil. October, and it's hidden little mysteries. The boys are wrapping it up now. Yankees are in. Red Sox too. Nobody cares about the Angels, and the wounded Tigers are fighting off the Twins, which is never easy when there is blood pouring in the hallways and the twins are catching up to them on tricycles. All work and no play. . . In the National Leauge, Cardinals are in and Mugger says they are the best team in baseball. But Mugger also said the Dodgers would clinch last night, yet they only mustered one hit. So while the Dodgers limp to the finish line, the cocksucking Phillies will be awaiting. I'm probably supposed to mention the Rockies.
So, now we know October is here packing mystery and dramatics. In a week I fly back to California for a few days. I'm looking forward to get to those golden rolling hills not because I miss it, but because I am eager for the perspective into what I can do there. For the past year I could have been in Brazil or Timbuktu (nobody really knows where that is) and it wouldn't have really mattered to me. Just needed a place to get my head straight. I'm better now. Healed. Recovered, whatever the word is. Anyhow, not sure how the job market will treat a writer there. I am aware its tough. I am also aware I may have pigeon-holed myself into a career as an international teacher. It's nothing I am too keen on. Its exciting, but a lonely existence without friends, language and family. Very heady.
About the writing. A while back I sent "Loam" to a bunch of publications to get a feeler on it. Based on what I wrote I was asked by a travel rag to submit more and turn it all into a travel feature, to ultimately have it scrapped. Editor didn't like the Hemingway aspect of the character, kind of crying-in-the-beer hero. I like these types of main characters (maybe they are crying in their beer because they couldn't live up to the heroic ideal, but did the best they can. If anybody wants to read it, shoot me an email). Then a few simple "no" replies from others, then today--October-- another personal letter from an editor. She really liked it and either wants me to develop it more or send her some more stuff. It's never just right for them. Loam is fucking good. She said it just needs to be longer. Why? So, I have an idea about how to extend it, and I'll work on it with October.
I'll finish this post by letting you in on what I do for a living, and why I am looking forward to ending this life chapter. In an international classroom, my new American student--my only native English speaker--though he is from Houston, turned this piece of work in as a response to religious conflict in the Middle Ages:

"The interaction bettwen the faith juadisom and cristianity in islam wasen't favravel to the Jews. It all manly started seens some jews had important government and and schorlarly posts, so the christians"

Notes--'To Be Young'

Two 13 year-old kids, Pedro and Luci, sneak under the school's chain-linked fence and into the shambled construction lot where a new playground is being built. They quickly pass through the lot and hide behind a tree in the mango grove. They embrace and tongue-kiss for maybe 40 seconds. Pedro says they should get back and that he'll walk ahead of her so it doesn't look strange.

They make it back safely. Pedro tells Felipe. Felipe gets pissed because on Friday Luci agreed to be his girlfriend and on Sunday he heard she was at the mall holding hands with Kevin on Saturday. Pedro can't believe it and apologizes to his friend. They agree that Luci is a bitch and a slut, and they will spend the rest of lunch telling the school.

Word gets around quickly that Pedro and Felipe are bad mouthing Luci and writing about her in the bathroom. Luci starts crying. Gabi and Ana console her, rubbing her back and stroking her hair. They go and tell.

Pedro and Felipe get called into Mr. Aeillo's office. They vehemently deny everything in a panic: "It wasn't us. It wasn't us. They're lying. It's not true!" Mr. Aeillo tells them how disgusted he is with their behavior, how their parents will be getting a phone call and how could they say such things about a young girl. Pedro becomes sweaty in defending himself, but Felipe has shut down. He is quiet and brooding in smoldering rage. Pedro is getting louder, his voice quivering until Mr. Aeillo says he has had enough. Felipe awakens from his darkness and screams, "BUT SHE IS A SLUT AND A BITCH! SHE IS!"

"Excuse me!" Mr. Aeillo hollers back. "She is a young girl who--"

Felipe hostilely interrupts,"Is a bitch and slut!" His hands and body pleading for Mr. Aeillo to understand.

"How can you say these things, Felipe?" asks Mr. Aeillo

"She said she was my girlfriend and then she goes and holds hands with Kevin at the mall," Felipe's quivering voice finally cracks. " Then makes out with Pedro behind a tree!"

Calm and cautionary, Mr. Aeillo says, "She is just a young girl trying figure out who she is, Felipe. It is normal for young adolescents, especially your age to explore their sexuality. I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it, or intend to hurt you. This is a confusing age for young people."

Now sobbing, his hands making one final dramatic plea, Felipe wails, "But she is those things! She is! She is!" and his wet face collapses into his hands. Pedro put his hand on his friend's back.

True Story

I have inherited a colleague's science class. Kids are about 12-14, scab-faced and developing quickly with gossip about drinking, smoking and screwing. All except for a little Norwegian girl named Ann. In each class, little Ann with her flat chest in cartoon t-shirts and peach haired legs has sat dreadfully quiet by the window, her eyes trembling with prayer.
But today she spoke.
We were discussing animals to dissect to best learn about the human body.
"A frog," suggested Maria.
"Mice," shouted Enrique.
"No way! A pig!" some other kid yelled.
Then, little Ann politely raised her hand. "How about a moose?"
"A moose?" I asked her raising my eyebrows. The class began giggling. "I don't know if we--"
Ann interrupted, "Ok. How about a bear?" She was nearly pleading.
"Ann, I don't...why are...I, uh, a bear? Why a bear? Or a moose?" She straightened out her frail body, rested her hands in her lap and brought her chin close to her chest. "I just want to know what makes them so big."

When A Teacher Doesn't Teach, But Thinks About Beer

I shifted the classroom discussion into the impact of technology on our lives. I asked each kid, ages 12-13, to tell me how they use technology and what they would do without it, et cetera et cetera. Typical teacher bullshit to pass a Friday, and about 5 minutes prior, Dave popped in to let me know he just put the beers on ice. So, mentally, class was over. Getting through it physically was all that remained. They raised their hands and said things about their Nintendos, MP3s, cell phones and computers. When it was Pedro's turn, he seemed flummoxed.
He is the thinker of the class, and his responses are usually a bit more complex.
"Well, es downloading. I download all de time," said Pedro, startled. He then went quiet and I could tell his thoughts were trailing in darkness.
I didn't really know what to say to the boy, but just getting him to expel whatever was in his head seemed like a good move.
"Ok Pedro. Well, what do you like to download?" I felt ridiculous asking such a question. A human asking another human what they like to download...
"No!" he quickly shouted. His voice remained loud and his eyes were wild. "Es no about what I like or what I don't like to download. But my whole life, I think I can download it."
Some of the kids laughed, but when Pedro didn't smile they stopped laughing.
"You can download your life, Pedro?"
"Yes! My father, he es always filming everything. I am serious. Everything. Then he puts into a file. Always files. A file for everything. I am a file. My seester, she es a file. My mom, everybody, a file. And anytime I have question about when we live in Columbia, or Venezuela, or wherever, I must download. I have so maaany questions about everything so I must always download!"
Wow. I was blown away. This was deep. Poor Pedro, so young and already in the matrix. But again, this was Friday, the humidity was heavy and I knew we had beers on ice at home.
"Wow Pedro. That is really crazy. Technology has really impacted your life. Maybe just stop downloading for a little bit. Ok class, no homework this weekend. Get outta here. Have fun!"